Oscar-winning actress Joan Fontaine died Sunday, her longtime friend Noel Beutel said Monday. She was 96. Fontaine died "very peacefully" in her sleep of natural causes, Beutel said. She was in her Carmel, California, home. She is survived by her older sister, actress Olivia de Havilland -- with whom she had not spoken for decades. Fontaine was born Joan de Beauvoir de Havilland in 1916 in Tokyo, Japan, where her British father was a patent lawyer and teacher. She and her sister moved to Saratoga, California, with their mother in 1919 when her parents separated. Fontaine was a teenager when she began her acting career as Joan Burfield in the 1935 film "No More Ladies." She later adopted the stage name Fontaine -- the name of her mother's second husband. She wrote in her 1978 autobiography, "No Bed of Roses," that her mother, who was an actress, began encouraging the rivalry with her older sister at an early age. The feud extended to their careers when both sisters were nominated for best actress Oscars in 1942. Fontaine, who was nominated for Alfred Hitchcock's "Suspicion," beat her sister Olivia de Havilland, who was nominated for "Hold Back the Dawn." De Havilland won the first of her two Oscars in 1947 when she was given the best actress award for "To Each His Own." De Havilland and Fontaine remain the only sisters who have best-actress Academy Awards. The long-standing feud with de Havilland was at such a peak during one Oscar winners' reunion in 1979 that they had to be seated on opposite ends of the stage. "I was shocked and saddened to learn of the passing of my sister, Joan Fontaine ... and I appreciate the many kind expressions of sympathy that we have received," a statement released by Olivia de Havilland to CNN said. 

Joan de Beauvoir de Havilland went by which two stage names?


So it was that J.W. and Marty had come into the inner places of each other's lives.  Of all the developments of Institute week, naturally the one which filled J.W.'s thoughts with a sort of awed gladness was Marty's decision to offer himself for the ministry.  Joe Carbrook's right-about-face was much more dramatic, for J.W. saw, when the decision was made, that Marty could not have been meant for anything but a preacher.  It was as fit as you please.  As to Joe, previous opinion had been pretty equally divided; one side leaning to the idea that he might make a lawyer, and the other predicting that he was more likely to be a perpetual and profitable client for some other lawyer.  In the light of the Institute happenings, it was to be expected that the question of college would promptly become a practical matter to four Delafield people.  Marty was greatly troubled, for he knew if he was to be a preacher, he must go to college, and he couldn't see how.  J.W. felt no great urge, though it had always been understood that he would go.  Marcia Dayne had one year of normal school to her credit, and would take another next year, perhaps; but this year she must teach. 

What would Marty have to do to become a preacher?


I had drunk too much, I confess, though we all had. Somehow, Tasha and I began to argue the worth of Solevgrad jazz, as inconsequential a topic as I can imagine. She had studied it in school, so she thought herself as an expert. I once had a neighbor who played it constantly, loudly, and badly, so I thought I knew it better. Malaquez tried to mediate, but I saw him as siding with Tasha. So, I think, did she. The subject shifted from music to Tasha's obsession with fame, undoubtedly by a leap that I made. She had no choice but to follow. (I do not remember any of this well, just now, nor do I care to. Those who are truly curious may look at the last act of "Captured Moments.") I remember suggesting, with characteristic tact, that she add Emil to her small list of major accomplishments. Malaquez glanced away, embarrassed. Tasha looked at me as if to say, "I will." She said, "I feel sorry for you, Nardo. I'll see Emil home." "Yes," I said, "Do that," and did not care what she did, or why. Emil asked, "You're all right?" I muttered something he must have interpreted as assent. They both walked up to Emil's home while I watched the scarlet moonlight ripple on distant waves. Disgusted with Tasha but more disgusted with myself, I finally realized she would not return that night and went into The Sleeping Flamingo to drink myself to sleep. She had not come home when I woke in mid-morning. 


Why was Tasha arguing about the worth of Solevgrad jazz